Promised Land

	  		
Verse 
A                                                   D 
Left my home in Norfolk, Virginia, California on my mind. 
  E                                                                   A 
I straddled that Greyhound, rode him into Raleigh, and on across Caro-line. 

A                                                                              D 
We drived by Charlotte and drove through Rock Hill, and we never was a minute late. 
       E                                                              A 
We was ninety miles out of Atlanta by sundown, rollin' out of Georgia state. 

A                                                                    D 
We had motor trouble, it turned into a struggle, Half way 'cross Ala-bam, 
         E                                                              A 
And the 'hound broke down and left us all stranded, in downtown Birming-ham 

A                                                                           D 
Right away, I bought me a through-train ticket, straight across Mississippi clean 
         E                                               A 
I hopped aboard that midnight flyer, smoking into New Or-leans. 

Solo 
A D E A  A D E A 

A                                                                         D 
Somebody gotta help me get out of Louisiana, gotta help me get to Houston Town 
           E                                                                   A 
There's an uncle there who cares a bit about me, and he won't let the poor boy down 

A                                                                           D 
Well sure as you're born they bought me a silk suit, put some luggage in my hand 
      E                                                        A 
And I woke up high over Alburquerque, on a jet to the promised land, yeah yeah yeah 

Solo 
A D E A  A D E A 

A                                                                         D 
Somebody gotta help me get out of Louisiana, gotta help me get to Houston Town 
          E                                                                    A 
There's an uncle there who cares a bit about me, and he won't let the poor boy down 

A                                                                           D 
Well sure as you're born they bought me a silk suit, put some luggage in my hand 
      E                                                        A 
And I woke up high over Alburquerque, on a jet to the promised land 

A                                                      D 
Swing low chariot come down easy, taxi to the terminal zone 
     E                                                               A 
Cut your engines and cool your wings, and let me make it to the tele-phone 

A                                                           D 
Los Angeles, get me No'folk, V'ginia, Tidewater four ten o' nine 
         E                                                                         A 
Tell the folks back home this is the promised land calling, the poor boy is on the line 

Solo 
A D E A  A D E A